Colors
by Sybil Syx
Summary: Colors mar such a blank canvas when somber bodies find their way into harm. How can evil reside in such a delicate artifact?
1. Prologue

Black and white and hues of gray scattered the snow speckled sky as the flakes landed on the exposed parts of the child's face, sending sparks of cold through their body. They blinked up at the white sky, the clouds gray across its bleached surface, the black ash of the fire still falling onto their face. It had been the biggest bon fire ever and everything compared to the image of its bright vibrant oranges and reds and yellows and sub-tones of blue and green was bleached and pale.

The teenaged child stood, pressing their sore hands against the frozen earth, pulling their beanie lower over their ears. Their hood was over their head and their hands had fingerless gloves covering their bloodied knuckles, the remainder of their hands covered by white gauze bandaging. The small 15 year old had dark blue eyes that were covered with red colored contacts and their lips were chapped and naked other than the scarf they pulled tighter over their nose, busted as well, with a scab across the bridge and a bandage stretched over it. The child was dressed darkly and rose from the ground as if they were being watched and glanced around a few times before actually planting their feet under them and walking onto the road, going to the only home they had.

Their feet clapped against the paving as they walked home, face to the sky, only eyes exposed, and hands in pockets. The white flecks fell slowly, floating to grace the ground, like feathers through air. The black ash from the fire and the white flecks of chilled flurries were mixing and disappearing as they met the pavement. The adolescent spun circles, turning on their toes and watching the graceful spots fall.

Something suddenly shattered the peaceful image. Bright bloody red flying through the air, abusing the same grace the flecks of ash and snow used, to land in the child's outstretched hand as they stopped to catch the bright red ribbon as it fell.

As the child inspected the object the silence was shattered by a roar of a man and the child shoved the ribbon into the front pocket on their pants, sprinting away from the noise that came from behind it. The child ran as far as they could go without leaving the road and soon, at the first intersection, they collided with a broad boy.

"Whoa, Ro! Watch where you goin'! Who you runnin' from?" The broad boy asked, his drawl taking a few letters out of the enunciation of the words he dribbled slowly.

The boy was taller than the child and had thick hair that hung in sheets over his eyes in layers of opaque black. His shoulders were broad and he was muscular, his hands were rough and scarred, his face showing the signs of any typical street fighter – though some of the scars that marred him were from his home.

"Mich, man, you gotta help me. My dad is comin' fast and he's rip-roarin' mad. I'm scared out of my mind, man!" The smaller adolescent whispered hurriedly.

Mich nodded, "Sure Ro, come on back, you can crash with me and the boys again tonight."

"Thanks man." Ro whispered, hurrying off after Mich.

Once inside the condemned apartment complex surrounded by boys in the main lobby, Ro pulled the beanie off and let the auburn hair fall over the red eyes perched on the small sharp face.

"Doro! Girl, what 'chu doin' here? You're gonna sleep in the middle of a bunch of scum bags?" A boy with natural black locks asked, his eyes a fierce green.

Ro looked over, grinning, "Hey, Jo, what's goin on?"

The boy shook his head, "Nothin, but come on, spill it, I asted 'chu what 'chu were doing here."

Ro shook her head, running her fingertips through her long red-brown hair, pushing it back away from her eyes, "My dad, starting his shit like always."

She had dropped her drawl, knowing she only used it when she spoke quickly or wanted to smile and have fun. She was dressed in all dark clothes and her lips were busted as she unwound the scarf from her face, flushed with cold. She was the only girl allowed in the apartment. All of the fighter boys or labeled punks would hang out here over night when shit went down and they needed somewhere safe to stay. Mich was the second guy in charge and if he caught you fighting, more than 'sparring' anyway, and you got thrown out and you had to sleep in the cold that night. Dorothy fought, a lot, and her father beat her near regularly and she stayed with the boys quite often.

"Where's James?" Ro asked, looking around.

Jo opened his mouth to answer but Mich clapped her on the shoulder, "He's up there, Red."

She nodded and started up the stairs to the uppermost floor (that wasn't rotted out, this building was condemned). The stairs creaked and were so old and rotten a few were missing, and the banister couldn't be trusted as it leaned out and in when you applied pressure to it.

Her goal was James's "office" which was the biggest room on the uppermost floor, the "Beta" room as the sign said, which was probably the last renters seeing as the sign was missing pieces and was falling apart and actually read "Be_t, A_". Inside he has a thousand monitors for cheap but effective cameras he had all over the apartment. And he had speakers everywhere as well, an intercom system, as well as a plan to hide everything and everyone if the police came to visit. He was also bribing the demolition experts who were supposed to have torn the building down years ago.

James was handsome and very rich, though he picked to use his money to aid the dirt bags of this dirt-hole county. He never wore suits but he wore baggy ripped up jeans, sweat shirts, ripped up shirts, and plenty of bandages. He was nice as well, kind, understanding, soft spoken unless you provoked him. Cool guy, really, but he was dark and had a dark demeanor.

Soon she was at his door and she knocked once to hear him shout something about getting lost.

"Hey, James, it's me." She called back, her voice low, tears threatening her.

The door flung open in seconds, James's face was the best sight ever and she almost giggled but she knew he was seriously concerned and wanted information on why she was upset.

"Hey James," Ro murmured, pressing a bandaged hand against his bare chest, his shirt in his hand, and pushing him out of the way, letting herself into his room.

"Doro, what's wrong?"


	2. Chapter 1 - James

Chapter 1 – James

Dorothy was in the passenger seat of James's car, a little tricked out racer, with a V8 engine, and a paint job any gangster in a hundred mile radius would kill for. It was a mustang, hot ride, really, but it was an uncomfortable silence the two sat in.

Then James growled, "I'm going to kill that fucker if he tries anything while I'm there and you're coming back with me, okay? We're just going to get you some clothes and you're going to stay with me for a while. If any of those boys back home fuck with you, I'll fuck them up personally. Got me, Doro? Ro, you listening?"

She was but she had nothing to say. She'd explained how her face was destroyed because of her father and how she'd run off with the boys to burn a few fallen trees and how when she was going to sneak off to one of her girls' houses. Then he noticed she was gone and had started yelling after her and she ran off, knowing he'd beat the shit out of her if he caught her.

"Ro!" He shouted, reaching over and snatching at her shoulder.

She looked at him when he touched her and he quickly withdrew his hand, knowing she hated contact.

"I'm sorry, Dorothy, I-…" He said softly, his rage at her father fading in a blink.

She shook her head and said, "It's alright, James," She paused a second then lurched forward with rage behind the red of her fake eyes, "_But my name isn't Dorothy._"

James laughed, "I'm sorry, Red, I forgot."

She smiled, "That's more like it."

Red – it was the name she preferred, that or "Ro" or even occasionally "Doro" was accepted. But she really liked "Red" because it was her favorite color. Her hair and eyes were red, even if her hair was only slightly tinted with the color. Not to mention red was the color of blood, fresh blood anyway, and that was her favorite thing to spill.

She'd dress so darkly and in loose clothing, for both comfort and disguise, so she could pull her hair into one of her hats and fight any guy she came across without them thinking twice because she didn't look like a girl. It was clever and it was James who'd taught her this, though he disapproved of her fighting he knew she had to deal with anger somehow and he also knew she'd get the shit beaten out of her either way. She loved to see the blood splatter across her opponent's face when she won a fight, and she rarely lost one.

Soon her smile was gone again and she was in front of her house, well, trailer anyway. James got out.

"Come on, Ro, you're going to pack yourself a bag." James said softly, brushing the black hair out of his eyes and walking his way to the front door.

Ro hesitated, then got out of the car, glancing around timidly, "James, wait up."

He paused on the little front porch of the run down trailer and glanced at her over his shoulder as she walked quickly to his side and pushed the front door open. But she stepped back, letting him enter ahead of her so he shielded her.

"Dorothy! That better be you, you bitch!" A scream came from the back room, just through the little door they were standing in.

She bit her tongue for a second, fearful of the man, before calling out, "Yeah, dad, it's me."

The man appeared, dark skin, scarred face, buzzed off hair, red rimmed eyes, reeking of alcohol. James straightened his shoulders, picking his chin up, his arm drifting slightly away from his body to cover Ro as she cowered him.

"What the hell are _you _doing here? Taking her off again so you two can fuck around?" The man growled.

James swelled, trying to bite down his anger, "I'm here to get her the hell away from you. We're going to get her some things out of her room and then we're gone and out of your hair."

"Good!" The man spat, starting to approach them, "She can stay gone too! If you show up here again, you little bitch, I'll beat you to death!"

Ro's eyes lit up, "Really?"

The man threw a beer bottle at the wall, swelling with anger, "What did you say to me?"

Ro ignored the nonverbal threat of violence, "Do you mean it? I can leave and never come back? You won't do nothing if I just leave?"

The man guarded her, "No. Just get the fuck out of my house!"

James glanced at her over his shoulder, "Go, Ro, get your things, all of them."

She nodded quickly and took off to her room, giving her father a wide birth. In her room she threw all of her things, clothes, books, music, knickknacks, weapons, and jewelry, _everything_ into a suitcase and took off back out into the main room. James took the bag from her and waited for a second.

"Come on, Ro." He coaxed, longing to seize the opportunity before the man changed his mind.

Dorothy hesitated, and then she launched herself at her father, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

"Thank you." She whispered.

The man shoved her away from him and looked confused. That was the first time she'd ever hugged him. Though, this was the first time he'd ever done anything mildly nice.

He raised his hand, as if to hit her and James started forward as she flinched away from him, but then he lowered his hand again.

"Just get out of here, girl, before I change my mind." He said, his voice softer than before, relaxing mildly.

Ro turned to James and grabbed his shirt, pulling him outside into the cold with her.

"You're staying with me, Ro, no argument; I don't want to hear a word. You get your own room, any one you want," James started; slamming her suitcase filled with her few possessions into the trunk of his car, "And if you really want you can stay at my house if not at home."

"Your house?" Ro asked suddenly, figuring James lived at home (the apartment complex, they always called it home).

"Yeah, I don't live with the boys. I have a house, a big house, a got a ton of unused rooms. You could live with me as long as you want, Ro, I'd be glad to have you. It's lonely there; it's why I spend so much time at the home." James said softly, opening Ro's door for her.

Ro got in and grinned up at him, "Yeah, that'd be awesome, James!"

He grinned back and shut her door, sliding over the hood to fling his door open and seat himself before ripping out of the trailer's area as fast as possible.

"So you're taking me to your house?" She asked, leaning forward to look him in the eye.

"Yeah, Ro, I'm taking you to my house. Then we're heading back home to party with the guys until the sun rises again or you pass out, okay?" James said, grinning.

"That's awesome!" Ro practically shouted, throwing herself back into the seat and grinning at the roof of the car.

But then something odd caught her attention. When she blinked she kept seeing the image painted behind her eyes of that ribbon, bloody red, falling, floating to the ground. Such a pretty color against such a bleached background. But the question nagged at her through her happiness at being gone from her abusive father and being gone for good.

Where did it come from?


	3. Chapter 2 - Party Guests

Chapter 2 – Party Guests

Ro was standing in a crowd of kids, teenagers to young adults, kegs of beer scattered everywhere and music thumping through the speakers spread across apartment complex. Everyone was dancing, joking with each other, drinking, just having a good time. This was one of the few occasions that girls were allowed into the home.

Her close friends were goofing off around her, her hair up, a black beanie pulled low over her ears. She was grinning like crazy and her eyes were alight, burning blue, her contacts out because James had begged her. She was dressed in black skinny jeans and a black and white plaid button down over a red tank top. Her feet were covered with her boots as always, black steel toe riding boots. She wasn't dancing, she never danced, but she was drinking and laughing with the boys.

The boys around her were few and they were all talking and joking. Jo, the only one around her with natural black hair, was small in stature but was strong and well built, though only so from fighting as he was a sickly child and prone to unhealthiness. Then there was Kat, a boy with purple hair and bright green eyes that shifted into blue on some occasions, he was taunted for his name but his birth name was actually Kat, and his hair was his choice, his way of saying "Fuck Society". He was tall and skinny but still strong as all the boys here were. And Evan, a short boy that was stocky and strong with bleached blonde hair and blue eyes.

The party wore on, dull really, but exciting when there isn't much to do and soon Ro sat down in a pile of blankets in the floor where Kat had slept the night before. She was fazed from alcohol and soon the boys around her had dispersed aside from Kat who passed out on his mat beside her. As the party wore on and the music pounded through the speakers she fell asleep, an intoxicated sleep but sleep nonetheless.

Apparently James was watching his cameras or Mich was because soon Ro was being picked up and loaded into James's mustang and being taken home while the men that worked for him to hold the home down dispersed the party slowly, the people there picking up their mess as they left, because most guests practically lived there. He put Ro in the passenger seat and strapped her in with seatbelt.

Mich was waiting at her door as James snuck around to the other side of the car. Mich pulled Ro's beanie off and let her hair down, tucking the hat into her pocket. Then the man kissed the girl's forehead.

Ro stirred, her eyes opening, "Hey."

Mich backed away from her face, "Hey, James is going to take you home now."

She sat up, and then lurched back as the seatbelt ripped her back, "I forgot my bag."

"Bag?" James asked, "I put your bag in the trunk."

"No not that. I had a bag when I first showed up today; it's in your room." She replied thickly.

"I got a key," Mich said, "I'll take her to get it, don't worry, man. You get this car going. It's cold."

James nodded, knowing Mich just wanted to warn Ro about him. Mich didn't trust James as far as he could throw him. Inside, Ro was stumbling up the stairs clumsily and Mich kept having to catch her as she stumbled backward or trying to catch herself on the banister that was a death trap. At the door to James's room she leaned against it and waited for Mich to unlock it.

The door fell open as Mich unlocked it. The screens were all alight and there was a boy with headphones on watching them. He didn't seem to notice us come in and when Ro bumped into him grabbing her bag out front underneath James's bed he gave a violent start and cried out but she was out the door again in a flash and bidding Mich farewell, stumbling her own way back outside.

The night was black and the only things that tainted the midnight blanket were the obscure light that filtered from the moon's orb that was hidden behind a cloud. Even the ground seemed light shadows but the blur between earth and sky was painted with hues of gray and black. Ro stumbled her way into the drive where the car.

As she stumbled around in the blackness towards the blur she knew was the car she collided with something.

"Fuck!" She cried in fear as a child, well a teenager her age, caught her as she fell backwards, "Oh, God, I'm sorry, I didn't see you. What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing," The black haired boy murmured, "Are you okay, Ro?"

"Yeah I'm fine." She answered, "I'm sorry I ran into you, man, what's your name?"

Her voice was thick with intoxication. The boy's eyes, blood red with slanted slits as his pupils, dropped down her body.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, his voice emphasizing the word 'you', as if she was an object, not a person.

"I'm leaving." She said thickly, confused, "What's your name?"

"I don't have a name." He answered, his voice low, "Where are you going?"

She shook her head, "No name?" She was so intoxicated she didn't understand what the boy before her was saying.

"Yes," He answered, "Where are you going?"

His voice persuaded her to answer, "I'm going with James."

"To his house?" He pressed, his voice soothing almost and making her want to answer.

"Yes." She answered, stepping back to see the boy better.

He had natural black hair, his eyes red, the pupils slanting in towards his nose at the bottom of the tilted line that dilated slightly as she spoke, his lips were red but seemed moist as if he'd just bitten them, and his skin was pale, especially in the moonlight that was so tainted. His hair hung just over one eye and only covered the edge, and it hung over his ears as well. His face was slim, sharp, his jaw narrow but handsome in an odd way. He seemed to have little to no muscle tone but seemed broad enough to have just enough force to hurt her. He was skinny, but seemed well in health aside from his pallor.

He licked his lips, "Why are you leaving already, Ro?"

She was confused, realizing something frightening, "How do you know my name?"

The boy smiled, "I know everything about you."

She also realized that the moist scarlet of his lips had smeared away when he licked them and the frightening concept of whatever had stained his mouth incited her to shove him away from her and run to James's car. She slammed the door and locked it.

She was afraid and obviously looked it.

"Red, what happened?" James asked, concerned, unbuckling his seatbelt in case he needed to kick someone's ass.

"That kid, that kid back there had blood on his mouth and he said, he said he knew everything about me. That kid was a freak!" Ro babbled her voice thick and almost childlike.

"Ro, there wasn't a kid back there." James said softly, "I watched you walk from the door to the car and you tripped, then stopped and looked around then freaked and ran to the car."

She shook her head, confused, turning and looking out her window to see the boy, standing in the dark, his skin the only thing marring the perfect blackness. His perfect white skin marring the perfect black night.


	4. Chapter 3 - Tricked

Chapter 3 – Tricked

Ro was confused, dazed, and completely wasted. When they pulled up to James's manor of a home (compared to her trailer and the home anyway) and she tried to stand up to get out of the car she stumbled and almost fell over. James was by her, out of the car and standing by her shaking his head and laughing softly.

Ro would've giggled but she was still scared and wary. James sighed when she tried to move and stumbled again. He bent, knocking her knees out from underneath her, folding them over his forearm and catching her with the other, holding her much like he was when he'd carried her sleeping out to the car.

The boy reappeared, "Nice girl you got there, but she reeks of alcohol."

James shook his head, "Get lost Damon, no one wants you here."

The young man smiled, "I just want to play." He said innocently, cutting James off by stepping in front of his and touching Ro's leg, she was unconscious again.

James snapped, barking at the unhealthy looking boy, "Don't touch her!"

Damon smiled wider, his teeth glinting viciously in the light, her eyes twinkling at the prospect of something to play, "Defensive much?"

James shifted his friend in his arms, "Yes, I am, and if you touch her I will kill you."

The boy feigned fear, "Oooh! I'm shaking in my boots!"

James glared at him, "I'm not scared of you, Damon."

Damon smiled, "And I'm not scared of you either. You're nothing to me, nothing but a burden." There was a pause as James searched the boy's face and he said, "And remember," Damon paused, his smile transforming into a sadistic grin, "I bury my burdens in blood."

James seized the boy's throat, his fingers tightening around the flesh. He shifted Ro, completely out, onto his hip and held her with one arm, "If you so much as _come near her _I'll make you wish I'd killed you." He hissed, his eyes blazing the fire of a thousand suns that burnt from anger alone.

Damon smiled through the pain of being choked but he made no move to remove James's hand, "Just remember, _all love's done is put you in this position, I say kill her off._ And if you want I could do it for you." His tone was implying something and the idea that shot through James's mind made him tighten his fingers around the parasite's throat.

"If you touch her, I will do more than _kill _you." James said bluntly, his tone of voice made it clear that he wasn't joking or making an empty threat.

Damon didn't cringe and his smile didn't fade, he just winked and let James's fingers close on empty air as the pale skin and black hair and dark clothes changed into white ash that slipped through the black air of the night, almost early morning, sky. The blackness was marred only by the flecks of white that hurled and swirled up towards up to the moon's light in the distance, grinning eternally down at James.

James growled up at them and was tempted to howl but he bit his tongue and swallowed his anger; he shifted Ro backs into his arms and carried her the rest of the way into the house. Once inside the front door, he shut the door with his foot and locked it, shifting his burden to do so. Ro stirred and wrapped her arms around James's neck, fearing her dreams. Then he took his guest up the staircase that dominated the center of the main lobby-like room that they were in.

A staircase wound up to the upper two floors and was leaned against the wall just off to the left. There was a sitting room just off to the right, furnished with black leather against the scarlet walls hung with coal drawn paintings. A plasma television dominated the far wall of the sitting room. There was a single coffee table in front of the black leather couch. It was a pretty room but it was obvious that it was scarcely used. Before the open entrance to this room there was a hallway that led back into the dining room and kitchen. Upstairs there were a maze of rooms separated by halls and closets and game rooms. This house was basically a small mansion.

Mounting the staircase and hoisting his friend into his arms more steadily as he tried to keep his balance, he made his way up to the upper floors, his destination the largest guest room he had. Soon he had made his way to it. It was right alongside his bedroom and the main bathroom so Ro could easily alert him if she needed to.

The room was red, a dark red with half translucent curtains that covered the one window in the room, which was three panels wide and had a seat in the sill so she could sit in the light if she wanted. There was a dresser against one wall, behind the door, and a wardrobe that was against the right wall. The furniture in this room was dark mahogany and the bed was directly in front of the door, the window just to the left of it. There was a bathroom just beside the TV which was pressed against the left wall so Ro could sit on the foot of her bed and watch TV. He expected her to move some furniture but for now she could cope sleeping in the room the way it was.

He moved across the room and set her in the bed, the clothes of it being dark scarlet and black satin. When he tucked her underneath the sheets he started wondering how she'd react to the black satin sheets when she woke up and smirked. He made sure he left the door open so she would know where to go if she woke up afraid of where she was. He left the hall light on as well and left his bedroom door open a crack as well, so she'd enter the first open door instead of wandering around.

He made himself at home once he was certain she was settled in, changing into his pajamas and rechecking all the windows and doors to make sure they were all locked firmly. Then he settled into the bed that was his, the shadows moving in circles and an oddly deep sleep starting to pull him under. His eyes focused on the glass of water he'd just drank and he was starting to wonder what the disgusting metallic taste in his mouth was.

Then he saw it, the white flesh and the red eyes and the black hair, between the door and the wall against the light of the hall. The demon boy's lips were pulled back in a wretched smile and a fury so blinding built in James's throat for letting him fall for such a trick but the blackness was taking him and he only managed a single plead before the darkness consumed him.

"Please don't hurt her." He called, his words slurring together.

Then black.


	5. Chapter 4 - The Morning Sun

Chapter 4 – The Morning Sun

The sun was filtering through the windows and there was a pit in the center of James's chest and he knew that his throat was dry and something was gnawing at his mind. His eyes flicked open as the memory of the red bloody eyes in the light pierced him. As he sat up it was like his room had been bleached of all color. It was sun bleached, the window open, the blinds open. He didn't take the time to ponder why his window was open though. Or even to satisfy his parched mouth with a drink of water before his feet were on the floor and he was exploding the door neighboring his.

"Dorothy!" The terrified man screamed upon practically breaking the door down.

She cried out in agony as he yelled, "Shut up!"

She was awake, laying in utter blackness, the light crashing through the door revealing her tired face; her eyes were covered with a damp rag. She was hung over, but otherwise fine.

James relaxed instantly, "Oh, god, you're okay?"

Ro hissed at him, "Shut up…" Then she pulled the rag off of her eyes, wincing at him, "Yeah I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

James shook his head, "I guess it was just a bad dream then." He said softly, the lies slipping through his lips with horrible ease, his thoughts dominating the reality before him, '_I wish I wasn't so used to lying to her.'_

Ro sat up slowly, trying not to upset her migraine, "Are _you _okay?"

James smiled, "I'm fine. How's your head?"

She groaned and flopped back down, "_Horrible._ And I feel like I've been poisoned!"

James's throat constricted, "Just the hang over?" He asked, his voice quavering.

Ro gave him a suspicious look, "Yeah, I think. What's up with you?"

He shook his head again, "I'll get you something for your head, okay?"

"Okay."

James shut her door again, going back to his room to investigate the open window in his room. When he pushed the door, which he'd slammed instinctively closed behind him, open again he saw that the window was no longer open and there was a pale boy sitting in the shadows the curtains cast on his bed.

"Hello James." The boy said.

In better light, he appeared very young. Though Red's early observations on his appearance were accurate, his age seemed much younger than previously appraised. His eyes were dilated; the slanted pupils wide in the light, and this intrigued James as rage mounted in his dry throat.

"Your pupils are wider than before. Tell me, Damon, when did you last eat?" James asked his voice so cold that the chilled room dropped even a few more degrees.

Damon smiled, "I fed from a doe last night."

James clicked his tongue, scolding the boy for lying, "Animal blood satisfies the hunger to a degree but only human blood could give you the strength to take in that much light without keeling over from the pain. Do not lie to me, boy."

Damon smirked, "Cocky aren't you? You are _not _my father. Do not act as if you are of any importance to me."

James gritted his teeth to keep from ripping the adolescent's throat out, "You shouldn't be so arrogant, Damon, I'm only trying to help you, you know. You rape and kill and feed like no one can touch you. But you know that if someone catches _us_ then we're _both_ dead."

Damon's smirk faded, "No one is going to catch _me_. And I don't care about _you._ You and father are nothing to me. You can both rot in Hell for all I care."

'_Yeah? I'll see you in Purgatory.'_ James bit the thought back, withholding it from speech, "I _do _care. And I actually made a life that makes me happy. So maybe I lie to everyone I care for but it's not like anything has changed."

Damon's lip twitched, "You shouldn't lie so blatantly. I understand why you lie to that red haired bitch but there's no point in lying to me."

"_Don't you dare call her a bitch, you stuck up little prick."_ James growled, his voice dropping to gravel that rumbled from his stomach and throat like a beast's growl, "I haven't lied about anything." The black haired man continued, biting his rage down.

"Oh shut _up._ You know she's just a stupid bitch you're trying to get with because she's 'injured' or whatever. It's not like you actually care about her. Or me." Damon drawled, rolling his eyes.

James's rage died, his heart ached at his brother's words, taking honest injury in them, "I care."

Damon looked up at him, having averted his eyes to the floor, "What did you say?"

"I said I care." James said, his voice softened, "I love you. And her. I don't know why you say things like that though."

Damon stood, advancing on his elder brother, "Why do you lie like this? Shut up."

"I'm not lying." James said softly, not backing away but reaching out and touching the boy's shoulder, "I love you, brother."

"Then why do you always scream about how I'm always wrong and stupid and do foolish things and disagree with everything I've ever wanted or achieved!" Damon screamed his voice shifting down an octave and turning into a growl like the one his brother had emitted earlier.

"Just because I don't agree with what you want and think doesn't mean I don't love you." James said his voice hardly a whisper.

There was a tap at the door and both of the boys froze. James's head snapped toward the door.

"James? Are you alright? Who was that yelling?" Ro's voice filtered through the door.

James looked back at his brother, his fingers ruffling the child's hair, "I love you Damon. Go home quickly, be careful, come back tonight and we'll talk more, okay?"

Damon's rage had died and the young boy looked as if he was about to cry, "Okay."

"I'm fine Ro," James called, "It was the radio."

"Oh, okay." She replied through the door, "I'm going back to bed, okay?"

"Okay." James replied quietly.

Damon side stepped his brother as he tried to catch an embrace before he left. He seemed to slide across the floor like a shadow whose ghost was attempting escape. He flung the window open, pouncing onto the sill.

Damon turned back toward his brother before leaping out of the window into the air, "I love you too James."

His voice was like a knife and cut through the silent air. A smile was shared between the brothers before the younger of the two leapt out and disappeared in a cloud of ash.

'_I wish you'd let me protect you Damon. And I wish you'd stop with these games before you get us all in trouble.'_


	6. Chapter 5 - Lights

Chapter 5 – Lights

James had gotten Ro a drink of water, breakfast, and painkillers for her hangover. When he entered her still dark room she was sitting up rubbing her temples. He sat at the end of her bed and watched her eat her breakfast in silence.

"Aren't you going to eat?" She asked suddenly, after a moment's pause.

James shook his head, "No, I'm not hungry."

Red cocked her head, "I don't think I've ever seen you eat even though I've known you all this time."

"Yes you have," James laughed quietly, mindful of her hangover.

She shook her head, "No, I don't think I have."

Black shadows covered this alley way, as the girl whimpered and cried. Her hair was bloody red, though it wasn't natural. Her face was pale white and cut in places, also marred with the black grime of the disgusting ground around her. She was the only Light in this place. Her body was covered with stained white cloth that hung thinly on her shoulders. It went to her ankles but she was uncovered, her arms and part of her abdomen revealed as the cloth was ripped and torn. Her lips were parted as she dragged in as much breath as she could, the air thin. Her eyes were vicious green with pupils that cut at an angle down to her nose, dilated wide with fear and pain. Her feet were bare and the soles were dirty. Three walls encased her figure as she lay curled on the ground, one leg pulled to her torso and the other sprawled out and bent at an odd angle, broken. Her arms were out at her sides, her palms against the ground, stitches and cuts and bruises colored her flesh.

She whimpered, the sound almost deafening as the silence set in once more. Hands, black as night, stretched down to touch the girl's face, consoling her almost.

"Shhh…" The Dananago lulled, "If we stay quiet, maybe he won't return." The whisper slid across the bricks on the walls and ground like ice across tile.

The girl squirmed, trying to get closer to the blackened sin ridden beast, while also not moving her broken, bruised limbs. The Dananago laced his arm around the girl's slender waist, lifting her gently. She rested her head, her hair over her face, on his black flesh, he being shirtless. His other arm snaked under her knees, apologizing quietly as he lifted her broken leg off of the ground. He moved forward with ease in the darkness, moving toward the end of the alley to take the girl back to her home before the actual evil one returned to harm her even more. He only made it to the end of the alley, turning his face to the street before them and glancing in both directions before taking a single step forward.

"I'd set her down unless you want me to hurt you too, Peter."

The sound shattered the atmosphere like a rock through glass. The girl cried out as if in agony at the sound of his voice and buried her face in the Dananago's chest. Peter winced at his name, and apologized to the woman in his arms, his voice distraught.

He laid her gently on the ground and whispered words of comfort to her, promising to be back to save her. The woman looked up at his face, seeing brown eyes, coated in a layer of scarlet blood, his face human but his skin covered with the layer of blackened sin of his death. His hair was black also, cut short, and looked to be covered in grease, but it was only the coating of black night that made him just another shadow.

She whispered a thank you and the Dananago boy left, glaring at the man who would harm this innocent girl again once he was gone. The man moved forward, taking the broken mortal woman in his hands, disgusting fingers grasping her left arm just above her elbow and his other hand poising its thumb beneath her chin and arching its fingers around her slender curved neck, holding her face towards his. He licked his lips and smiled into her porcelain features.

"I'm not finished with you, my darling," He whispered, smiling vindictively.

She whimpered and swallowed the pain, squeezing her eyes closed as his hand removed itself from her arm and wrapped around her waist, snatching her to her feet.

Peter was down the street, pulling the cloak he'd abandoned over his shoulders, his trousers soaked through and his skin drenched with rain that had started a few seconds before, as he had walked down the street. He squeezed his eyes closed and made a silent vow to save the girl if she was still alive, but somewhere he knew she'd be dead before the night was over.

"You can at least go back and bury her body, make sure she's all proper before her body is eaten by the Hounds." The girl whispered, as she stepped from underneath the shelter that she'd waited for him under.

The small store, under which the awning had protected the pale girl, that the pair stood beside was dark and made of brick and sold meats that any demon in the area could consume. They were in the "Underworld" where every demon lives. The only issue with the "Underworld" was the fact that it wasn't actually underground in "Hell". It was a city, just like the others, that was constantly consumed in blackness and that all the shops sold things only demons, or mentally insane humans, would buy. But the thing that wasn't expected was the population of humans in this area. It was almost one-third human in this city.

Unfortunately, the humans were only there for food and entertainment. Peter and his Light were the only demons there that weren't out for murder. – Lights are demons of purity, which eat away darkness to provide the prophets and the warriors for the city. You'd think that warriors could be of any sort of demon seeing as they are all malicious but unfortunately the average demons' malice is against them, making them want to deceive their army into fighting for their individual causes, which causes an uproar, whereas Lights are very submissive though very powerful.

Peter took his Light's hand and led her away, listening to the girl behind them shriek in agony, "Yes, we will take her away from here and bury her if I cannot save her."

James was pacing his study. His thoughts were dark and he wondered if his brother would listen to him. They weren't safe where they were. Maybe he could convince his brother to go back to the Underworld? Or maybe just keep him under lock and key? He didn't know.

Then there was the fact that he needed to figure out his issue with Red.

Lights were only made when a human wanders, and Red was strong. But James was curious. Was she a human with strength? Or was Red a mortal-bound Light? Could that be real? He'd never heard of that.

There was a timid knock on the door.

"Come in." James said softly, pausing and holding his forehead in his hand.

Dorothy opened the door, peaking in, "Um, James. Would you do me a favor?"

James looked up at her with a mixture of desire to please and honest care, "Yes."

Ro's nose flushed a light red, "I forgot my things are still in the car."

A moment passed in which James was unsure of what she was asking him, but when he realized that her hair was damp and she was hiding herself behind the door he gave a start.

"Oh, yeah, I'll go get your stuff." He said, his face showing his embarrassment and shock.

Ro's blush darkened as she quietly thanked him and scampered off to her room. James gave her a head start before following, his thoughts marred by the awkward incident.


End file.
